


Help Me To End The Day

by HighFlyingBird



Category: Pink Floyd
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Supernatural Elements, Syd's the ghost in Roger's new home, Very AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23675620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighFlyingBird/pseuds/HighFlyingBird
Summary: Roger moves into a new home, but what he doesn't know is that somebody already lives there. Well, not really 'lives', 'cause he's been dead for a good long while.
Relationships: Syd Barrett/Roger Waters
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not all too sure where I'm going with this exactly, but I thought it'd be fun!

Finally.

Finally, Roger had moved everything into his new house and he could take a moment to sit down and rest. He didn’t have the patience to drag out the whole moving process for longer than he needed to, so for the whole day he rushed to get everything into the quaint little home and into place. Doing so had kept him busy enough that he simply didn’t realize how exhausted he was, but it was over now. 

After taking a moment to catch his breath, Roger stood up to make his way to the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove. While he left the water to boil, he went to his turntable to put on a record and replace the silence. Softly humming along to the music that began to fill the empty air in the house, Roger turned to the window and observed how the setting sun bathed the yard in a golden light. As he did so, he let his thoughts wander to how… happy he was, to simply be in a new home. It was only across town from his old flat, but there was always something so refreshing about a new place. Soon enough he was pulled out of his thoughts by the whistling of the kettle, so he ambled his way back to the kitchen to pour himself some tea. Roger then took his cup of tea out to the front steps so that he could sit down and properly enjoy the sunset while he drank it. 

Roger quietly observed the clouds roll by, listening to the record he left on in the house. Soon he directed his attention to what appeared to be empty flower beds in the front yard, left by the home’s previous owner, then to the other houses on the street and briefly wondered what kind of people he might have as neighbors. Roger could only hope that whatever neighbors he had at least wouldn’t be absolutely insufferable or nosey. Well, he would find out sooner or later, wouldn’t he? 

Eventually the sun had gone down and Roger’s cup was empty, but he still stayed where he was, simply enjoying the cool evening air and wondering how he could fix up the yard to look more presentable. He was never exactly one for gardening, but that didn’t mean he would just let the half dead yard make it look like nobody lived here still. He was just about to stand up and head back inside when he was interrupted by an overly eager golden retriever running at him to meet him, followed by a man, presumably the dog’s owner, chasing after it and calling out “Hazel! Hazel, come back here!”

“Oh, hello!” Roger laughed as he began petting the excited dog, who was wagging its tail so hard that its entire body shook. Apparently the time for meeting the neighbors came sooner rather than later. 

“I’m so sorry,” The dog’s owner told Roger, out of breath, “She can get a bit too excited when she sees somebody she wants to meet,”

“No need to apologize, this is one hell of a welcome to the neighborhood,” Roger smiled and gave the dog another pat before she went back to her owner. 

“I probably ought to feel bad that Hazel got around to greeting you before I did,” The man laughed before stepping closer to offer his hand to Roger for a handshake, “I’m David, by the way.” 

“Roger,” He gladly shook David’s hand.

“When did you move in?”

“Just today. Already I’m quite a fan of the area, a little more nature than where I used to be.”

“That was a big plus when I moved here, too.” David nodded, then looked up to one of the house’s upstairs windows in a pensive way before speaking again. “Y’know, from what I heard from some old crow down the road, this is the first time in a good fifteen years or so anybody’s lived in this house here.”

Roger gave a questioning look as he listened to David. “And why would that be? Is there something wrong with the house I don’t know about?”

“What, they didn’t tell you someone died here?” David said with the slightest hint of a mischievous smile on his face.

“You’re lying to me. That’s not true, is it?”

“Really, I wouldn’t know,” David shrugged, chuckling as he did. “It’s just one of the local legends ‘round here, y’know?”

Roger nodded along as he listened, smiling in an amused type of way, “If that little ghost story’s your attempt to scare me into moving out so soon, you’ll have to try harder.”

“I just thought it was an interesting little anecdote! Forgive me for being an awful conversationalist.” David laughed, though he was soon cut off by Hazel laying down at his feet and sighing, as if to ask ‘Are you done yet, dad?’

“Oh, alright, alright…” David mumbled with a little smile as he leaned down to give her a pat on the head before turning back to Roger, “I suppose this would be my cue to get outta your hair now.”

“Well it was nice getting to meet you, Dave.” Roger gave him a friendly smile. 

“You too, guess I’ll see you around, yeah?” 

“Right, you both have a good night then,” He waved to David as he walked away, his dog immediately getting up to enthusiastically follow him. 

Roger then stood up and turned to go back inside, now needing to turn the lights on, now that night had fallen. He noticed that it had grown considerably colder inside of the house, though of course that was easy to blame on the fact that Roger had left the front door open while he was sitting outside on the front steps. He simply shut the front door behind himself and dismissed the cold as nothing as he made his way to the kitchen with the intention of putting together a sandwich as a half-assed excuse for a dinner. He didn’t even bother to sit down at the table while he ate, choosing to instead stand at the counter. 

Once he was done eating and cleaned up around the kitchen, it was off to bed for Roger. It was still quite early compared to when he would usually go to sleep, but exhaustion was quickly creeping into every corner of his brain. He rushed through his nightly routine of brushing his teeth, showering, drying off and getting dressed again, then picking a book off of the shelf so that he could fall back into bed and do a little bit of reading before finally falling asleep for the night. Roger only got through a couple of pages before deciding to dog-ear the page to mark his place and set the book aside so that he could turn out the light, bury himself in the covers, and finally close his eyes. 

Just when Roger was teetering on the line between sleep and consciousness, he was thrown awake by an unnerving  _ thump _ from across the room. He sat bolt upright and turned the lamp on, only to see nothing obviously wrong. He slowly got out of bed to shuffle across the room, determined to find whatever had made the sound. He then turned his gaze to the floor and found that his copy of  _ Grimms’ Fairy Tales  _ had fallen off of the bookshelf. How in the hell did that happen?

Roger picked the book up to place it back on the shelf. As he got back into bed, he couldn’t help but think back to his conversation with David earlier that evening.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update I'm just very insecure about my writing and got busy, I'll try to update a little more frequently though

Roger sat at his kitchen table with a plate of eggs and toast in front of him, the previous night’s odd occurrence for the most part forgotten. As he ate his breakfast, absentmindedly watching the birds just outside his windows, he quietly thought over the day’s plans, or rather lack thereof. He told himself when he woke up that he would take his day off to simply relax and settle in, but of course his constant need to feel productive would interfere with that, as always. 

Once he was done eating and had cleaned up around the kitchen, Roger glanced up to the clock on the wall and saw that it was already noon. Despite having gone to bed so early the night before, he just couldn’t bring himself to wake at a relatively reasonable time. After considering his options for ways to occupy himself, Roger remembered just how long it had been since he had spoken to Rick. He picked up the phone and dialed his number, sitting himself down in his recliner as he waited for an answer. 

“Hello?” Answered that familiar voice,

“Hello, Rick?” 

“Rog’!” Rick’s tone immediately brightened up upon recognizing the other’s voice, “How’ve things been on your end?”

“Oh, just grand,” Roger answered with a smile, “Finally moved into that new place I talked about. What’ve you been up to?” One of his favorite things about his friend was how easily they could pick up right where they left off, despite not having spoken for a good few weeks.

“Y’know, this and that. Good to hear you’re alright. You’re a little more out of the way now, though, aren’t you?” 

“Just a bit, yeah.” Roger confirmed with a nod, though knowing full well that Rick couldn’t see it, “Once I finish settling in and fixing things up, you ought to come by for a visit.” As he spoke, he looked out of the window at the front yard. 

“Of course, that’d be lovely.” The smile was practically audible in Rick’s tone, “D’you still have a lot to get done around there?”

“Not far too much. Sometime today I thought I’d better start on cleanin’ up the yard, the garden’s looking like a goddamned cemetery since no one’s touched it in a good while.”

“Sounds like quite the task. S’pose I’d better not keep you too much longer then?”

“Oh I see, trying to get rid of me already?” Roger laughed, obviously not genuinely offended at all.

“Of course not, Rog’,” Rick laughed with him, “but you and I both know damn well that if I don’t say anything, you’ll use this conversation to keep putting off your chores.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll let you go then. See you later, Rick.” 

“Goodbye, Roger. Remember to call again soon, yeah?”

“Of course, talk to you soon.” And with that, Roger hung up. 

He let out a soft sigh and directed his gaze to the window again, still not looking forward to having to fix the garden, but knowing it had to be done. He forced himself to stand up in order to go about beginning his task, which was when he noticed just how frigid his living room had grown. Roger looked around the room, confused. He knew for a fact that he hadn’t left any windows or doors open, and he didn’t have any fans turned on. Was it even this cold outside? Before he could think over it for too long, Roger just shook it off and went to retrieve a pair of gloves. He didn’t own a proper pair of gardening gloves, so his winter gloves that he wouldn’t need again for another few months would simply have to suffice. Hopefully there wouldn’t be too many thorny weeds in what was left of that garden. 

Just a short while later Roger found himself in his front yard, kneeling in front of the flowerbeds and pulling out weeds. He soon started to lose track of exactly how long he had been at it, until the familiar sound of nails clicking on the sidewalk caught his attention. He looked up to see Hazel, on a leash this time, trying to run over to greet Roger and pulling David along with her as she did. As soon as the dog was close enough, Roger pulled off his gloves so that he could give her a few pats. 

“Morning, David,” He greeted with an affable smile. 

“What do you mean ‘Morning’?” David chuckled, “It’s almost two.”

“I’ve only been up for around an hour, so it still counts.”

“... Fair enough. So what’re you up to?”

Roger stood up to be face to face with David and brushed the dirt off of his pants before answering, “Just trying to clean up the garden a bit.” As soon as he stopped paying attention to Hazel, she started sniffing around in the flowerbeds and after a moment started to dig into the dirt, evidently interested in whatever she smelled. David quickly pulled her back before she could do any damage. 

“What’re you planning to do with it?” He asked, “Didn’t take you to be much of a gardening type.” 

“Oh, I’m not,” Roger told him, “I just don’t want my yard making it look like no one lives here. I thought I’d just put in some roses or something and call it done.” While he described his vague plans for the garden that he hadn’t fully worked out just yet, Hazel grew increasingly more restless. She repeatedly switched between pacing around David, trying to pull him back in the direction they were headed, and trying to dig into the one spot in the flowerbed that had caught her attention. 

“Well I’m sure it’ll look wonderful.” David nodded, “Good luck with all that, we’ll get going and leave you to it, then. You have a good day, Roger.”

“You too.” Roger leaned down to give Hazel one more pat on the head before she and David turned to continue on their walk. Roger knelt down in front of the flowerbed again and put his gloves back on to keep on with his little assignment, which was beginning to take up more time than he had originally anticipated. Damn this garden for being this big.

After a little while, he lost himself in thought again. His mind started to wander to what he might do about dinner later that night. Maybe he would throw some vegetables into a pot and make some soup. Or maybe some type of pasta? He considered his options until another new sound pulled him out of his thoughts. Was that… jingling that Roger heard? He looked around for the source of the noise, jumping with a startled gasp when he had located it.

It was a cat. A little siamese cat, with a bell attached to its collar. What the hell was it lately with other people’s pets wandering up to Roger?

“... Well hello there, where’d you come from…?” Roger softly murmured to the small animal as he reached out to pet it. Just before he could touch it, though, the cat stepped out of his reach. He paused for a moment before moving closer and trying again, only for the cat to step out of his reach again. When it moved this time, Roger caught a glimpse of the little nametag on the cat’s collar that read ‘Sam’. 

“Oh, c’mon, Sam…” Roger muttered, as if the cat would understand him. After trying and failing to pet Sam one more time, Roger just sighed and gave up. He turned back to weeding the garden, though now he had something of an audience. Despite not wanting to interact with Roger, Sam did seem to be interested in watching him from a little ways away. After a moment, it began to wander around the garden, eventually finding a nice patch of sunlight to settle and lie down in, from which to watch Roger work. 

Finally, after another fifteen minutes or so, Roger was finished with this arduous task. He pulled his gloves off and looked up to see that Sam hadn’t moved from that spot and was still watching Roger as if he were the most interesting thing in the world. He watched the cat for another moment before an idea popped up in his mind. 

“Wait right here, Sammy.” Roger said as he stood up and went back inside to retrieve a slice of turkey from his fridge. Maybe Sam would let Roger pet it if he fed it. When he came back outside, he found that the cat was gone. He paced around the yard looking for it, but didn’t find so much as a pawprint. Mildly disappointed, he dropped the slice of turkey onto the grass in case Sam came back before heading back inside to start on dinner.


	3. Chapter 3

Another week came and went, but Roger hadn’t seen a single sign of that strange cat again. He sat in his living room, his only company being a plate of cherry pie that one of the kind old ladies down the street brought by the day before as a welcome to the neighborhood. Roger knew it was a poor choice for breakfast, but oh well. Time isn’t real and food is food. He switched on the television just to have some background noise while he ate, not at all paying attention to exactly what it was on the screen. 

Once he had finished eating and put his dish away, Roger decided that it was about time he got some cleaning done around the house. He had been neglecting to keep everything as organized as it perhaps should have been, out of a combination of being unsure where exactly to start, and plain and simple laziness. He threw the windows open to let some fresh air in before beginning his task, softly humming to himself as he did so. He reorganized everything that needed to be put into place, vacuumed the floors, and wiped down every glass surface in the house until he was satisfied with the job he’d done, before hopping up the stairs to collect his dirty laundry. 

Roger came back down with his laundry basket tucked under his arm as he made his way down to the basement, where the washing machine was, though he stopped in his tracks when he passed through the living room again. He noticed something just… slightly wrong. He could have sworn that he had left the TV on the news channel, but now it was in the middle of some soap opera that Roger knew for sure wasn’t running when he had gone upstairs.

As Roger tried to think up an explanation or excuse for what he was seeing, the channel changed again. 

Before he could so much as take a moment to process what was going on, he dropped the laundry basket and bolted over to the TV to shut it off. It had grown cold in the room again, but he couldn’t be bothered to notice due to the feeling that his heart might beat out of his chest, and that he was being watched. After looking around to confirm that he was alone, Roger turned his attention back to the basket. 

“TV must be on the fritz or somethin’…” He mumbled to himself as he put his clothes back into the laundry basket with shaking hands. He then picked it back up to continue his journey down to the basement. 

Roger tossed his clothes into the washing machine, trying to be quick about it in order to be able to leave the dim, cold, dingy basement as soon as he could, unsettled about what had happened upstairs in the living room. Of course at any other time, he would have felt silly for being afraid of something so trivial as his own basement, but that was at the very back of his mind at the moment. 

Once he had started the washing machine, Roger turned to leave, though he paused again when his gaze landed on something across the room. 

An old, worn out looking cardboard box. Presumably left by the home’s previous owner, since Roger knew good and well that it didn’t belong to him. In a split-second decision fueled by curiosity, he went and picked the box up before scurrying back upstairs. 

Roger set the box down on his kitchen table with a sigh. The box’s somewhat hefty weight only made him ever more curious as to it’s contents, so he immediately sat himself down at the table to open it. Just before he could, though, a familiar jingling sound caught his attention. Roger looked up to see a certain siamese cat sitting on his windowsill. 

“Well hello again, Sam…” Roger softly greeted with a little smile as he rose out of his seat to slowly approach the animal. He reached out to pet it, but just like the last time, it stepped out of his reach before he could touch it. Before Roger could try again, Sam jumped into the house and onto the table to rub its face against the corner of the cardboard box from the basement. 

“So you wanna know too, hm?” Roger chuckled as he sat back down and finally opened the box up. The first thing he found inside was a formidable stack of records. A big grin spread across Roger’s face as he flipped through them to see just how much of this music he might recognize. After a moment of this he took one of the albums out of the box, the grin on his face somehow growing even brighter when he read the cover. 

“Sincerely Yours.” Roger read aloud before turning to Sam, who was still sitting on the table, watching. “It’s our lucky day, isn’t it, Sam?”

Roger was quick to make his way to the living room to put the record on the turntable, humming and singing along when the music started to play and Vera Lynn’s warm, familiar voice filled the silence. Just as he was about to return to the kitchen to continue looking through the box, Roger began to get that feeling of being watched again. He frowned and looked around, only to see nothing out of place… 

Maybe it could just be chalked up to the fact that Roger had someone else’s cat in his house at the moment. Surely it must have been only Sam making him feel that way. Roger simply shook off that odd feeling and walked back into the kitchen, where the cat was wandering around, investigating Roger’s kitchen counters. Roger left Sam to do that as he sat back down and looked into the box again. 

The next thing Roger found inside was a positively ancient looking photo album, which he eagerly took out and placed on the table. Maybe he might learn a thing or two about whoever lived here before him. He opened the album to the first page and was immediately greeted with a photo of what appeared to be a quite obviously exhausted mother holding her newborn child. Roger looked for a date, and found written across the bottom of the picture, “January 6th, 1946. Happy Birthday, Roger”. 

Roger smiled just barely, amused by the fact that the child in the photograph had the same name as him. He did the simple math in his head, and concluded that he was about three years younger than himself, so he surely must have still been around. Roger kept flipping through the pages, still smiling fondly at all of these memories that had nothing to do with him. 

Roger’s attention was soon caught by the sound of the bell on Sam’s collar. He had almost forgotten that the cat was still in his house. He looked over to see Sam playing with a crumpled up receipt that he’d left on the counter earlier. He considered it for a moment before reaching down to try and pet it, but just like each time before, Sam moved out of his reach. The cat almost seemed to be… Glaring at Roger. Before Roger could make another move, Sam hurried out and hopped out the window it came in through. Roger stood up and went to lean out of the window to try and see which direction Sam would go, so maybe he might figure out who the owner was. 

But the cat was already out of his sight. 

He sighed and turned back to the photo album on his kitchen table to continue looking through it and trying to deduce what he could about the family in those pages. Roger kept at it for what felt like ages before he was struck with the realization that the washing machine must have stopped by now, so he slammed the album shut and bolted downstairs to take his clothes out before they could sit there for too long. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow I am SO sorry I keep taking so long to update hahaha


End file.
